


File it away

by jestbee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, Comedy, Fluff, M/M, PINOF, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: Footage on an old file needs converting and what he finds is something quite extraordinary





	File it away

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly an in-joke with @charlottekath and @ineverhadmyinternetphase so I apologise for the ridiculous premise. But I lost my shit discussing what might happen if someone needed to convert the old pinof 1 footage for some reason and decided it needed to be written up in fic form. Even if no one else finds it as funny as I do.

A dark room is lit by the glow of a monitor, Jake sits in his old wheelie desk chair with the peeling, cracked, black pleather and watches the blue loading bar creep along the screen. He has the client notes up alongside it and he scans them as the file finishing converting.

Client requests that footage is not to be watched.

It's not an unusual request. Jake's seen it before a bunch of times so it doesn't strike him as particularly odd.

He's stayed late to do this one. Theo has been a nightmare to live with lately, especially since they decided to re-do the lounge and Jake thinks he'll probably scream if he has to look at floor samples one more time. Theo can just have whatever he wants at this point, even if it is the light beech, which won't go with their pine coffee table at all.

The file isn't exactly a weird format, just something awkward from an old camera type that doesn't work with modern editing software. It's a standard job, rip the footage, convert it, stick it back on some modern storage solution so the customer can view 'yesterday's memories today' or whatever drivel is on their most recent flyer. Alan came up with it of course. Alan who probably doesn't even understand the process for doing this shit let alone the technical intricacies that go along with it. It's fine though, this one is simple.You lose a little of the clarity in the process but not so that you'd really notice. It's not like any of the footage in the old file types would be in high def anyway.

The bar reaches the end and he double clicks the file just to check it's converted properly. They promise discretion, like anywhere would, but the fact is it's necessary to confirm everything has gone smoothly by letting a few seconds of the footage run. It's usually quite hilarious, the things people decide to hide.

It's not immediately obvious why this is sensitive though. Two boys sit side by side, one in a soft grey hoodie or something, holding a piece of paper up to his face and the other in a yellow and black checked shirt. Jake lets it a run on a little, just to see what they'll do. He knows he shouldn't, but there's no harm. No one will find out.

"Do you have the questions?" the black haired one says.

He other one drops the paper from in front of his face and his chocolate eyes flick over to the other one as he nods.

Jake doesn't know why, but he doesn't click stop.

What follows is the two of them answering questions from the piece of paper the guy in the grey is holding. They're weird, and a few questions in they pick up a marker pen and lean closer to each other, drawing what appear to be cat whiskers on their faces. They're really close to each other and Jake thinks he knows what type of video this might be after all.

The answering of questions is weird but hey, whatever gets you going.

He leans back in his chair and watches the tension crackle between them on screen. They're cute.

"Why do you always draw cat whiskers on your face?"

Always? What the hell is this?

The next few minutes are the weirdest thing Jake has ever seen. And he's seen some pretty messed up shit come through this place. They answer questions, switching positions ever now again, rolling around on the bed and the floor, stopping every once in a while to say things like "Should we keep that in?" And "Don't worry, i'll edit all together out of order."

There are more questions and the brown haired guy has a crazy fascination with licking things and all in all it's a bit of a hot mess. The only thing he's certain about is that he recognises what's going on, the dance they're doing around each other. He can see why these memories are worth keeping.

He's still not sure what he's watching but apparently he's at the end as they begin to say goodbye. There's still a fair amount of the file left though. The darker haired one of the two is up close to the camera and Jake watches as a sly smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and then he pounces backwards, knocking the other one to the ground.

Jake can't watch much more after that. It turns out it is one of those videos after all. He clicks stop just as the wet sound of kissing floods his speakers.

The screen goes black and he makes sure the file is in the correct place, takes out the drive and places it in the correct folder, leaving it in the out tray for collection. That's enough for tonight.

On his way out he digs his phone out of his pocket and dials his home number.

"Hey baby," he says when Theo answers, "...No, no. I just wanted to hear your voice."

He remembers what it's like to dance around someone like that. The youthful push and pull, diving on each other, rolling around on a carpet. All charged space and flirty newness of something growing between you. He'd forgotten, he supposes, lost it in the mundane everyday and decorating decisions.

"I'm on my way home," he says, and then, "yes of course baby, the light beech will be fine for the floor."

He grins. Not-so-new is good too.

In the morning he opens the shop again because Alan has decided he isn't coming in. He never comes in these days, because Jake can deal with the orders and collections as well as manning the desk up front so there's no real need.

Laura arrives after an hour to do the books and a bit of filing. She's nice enough and she always makes him a cup of tea but mostly she just sits in the back at the tiny desk with her calculator and her glasses and leaves him to it.

It's a slow day, dragging through lunchtime until it's around 1pm and the door's electronic chime sounds as two people come through it.

Jake recognises them instantly.

One guy with black hair swinging into his eyes, batted off with the side of an insistent hand. He looks a little older, but not much different really. At his side, with a calculated distance between then that Jake also recognises, is the brown haired guy.

He's wildly different. He's filled out, his hair is curly he looks more sure of himself, holds himself differently.

He still makes the other one come up to the desk though. A tiny shared look between them is all it takes.

"How can I help?" Jake asks.

"I've come to collect an order? It'll be under the name Dan Howell."

He looks back over his shoulder in a way that suggests that he is not Dan, the other one is.

Jake doesn't need to rummage in the out tray too much to find the order. He knows exactly which one it is.

He pulls the receipt and filing sheet off the front of it and passes it over the desk. 

"Here you go, final amount is just here, if you could just sign, Mr. Howell?"

Jake looks up, over the black haired guy's shoulder. No use pretending he hasn't worked it out.

Dan shuffles forward, a sheepish grin on his face.

"God Phil, you're useless, just pretend to be me better next time," he says to his companion.

Phil shrugs and knocks their shoulders together briefly as Dan reaches for the pen with his left hand.

"Hope it didn't give you any trouble," Phil says as Jake places the card machine on the counter and waits for Dan to locate his bank card in his wallet.

"Piece of cake," Jake says. "I like it when a job is nice and easy."

The card machine beeps, the receipt runs out the top. He tears it off, clips it back to the front of the packet containing the drive and hands it over to them. Dan takes it, his large hand covering almost the entire side of it.

"Good," Phil says as they turn to go, "glad you enjoyed it then."

They head out of the door but Jake can't help himself from saying one final thing. A grin tugs at his mouth as he shouts after them.

"In fact," he calls to them, "You might say it was the most fun I ever had."


End file.
